


Point of Origin

by wintermute



Category: NCIS
Genre: Case Fic, M/M, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintermute/pseuds/wintermute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The death of a Naval Lieutenant brings Gibbs to Baltimore, where he meets Detective Tony DiNozzo for the first time. But as the case intensifies and all evidence points to a possible terrorist connection, it’s up to the boys to find the killer fast and stop a potential terrorist attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Guardian Angel series of my fics, which could be mostly read as one-shots. This is known as ‘the fic that refused to be written’. It had also gotten a LOT longer than I thought it would be at first, so it’s posted in three parts.
> 
> I’ve decided to take the plunge and finish my own version of Tony’s ‘origin’ story before that comes out in an episode in ~~the spring~~ ~~May~~ a few days. The concept of the story actually materialized awhile back, just haven’t had the chance to finish it. There may or may not be spoilers for the upcoming episode. This idea for this fic came to me when I was doing some fact research on NCIS timeline – it fitted well with what was available on the interwebz. There are mentions of 9/11 in this story, and I apologize ahead of time to those who think it’s inappropriate to use such a moment in time. My sympathy goes to those who have lost, and I have the utmost respect for those who helped in the time of need.
> 
> And thanks to silvertales for the wonderful beta job she did, and tingreca, onlyonechoice, dinozzoitis and djmicheals for cheerleading!!!

It was dark where he laid. He felt trapped – actually, he knew he was trapped after trying to move. The initial sharp pain had dulled in the wake of the adrenaline, but it was getting harder to breathe. He could feel his heart racing faster as his breathing slowed, knowing that this might be the end. He knew he should be panicking, but he felt oddly at peace with the notion. He tried not to think about the reason behind that peacefulness. He closed his eyes to shield them from the falling dust and debris, but he could hear the muffled sounds coming from all around him.

 

Suddenly, there was light. Light so bright he could see it behind his lids, and had to blink when he opened his eyes. A figure emerged from the light. It looked like a halo on his rescuer – his own guardian angel.

 

 _Hey! Don’t worry, I gotcha_. His angel said. _You’ll be all right_.

 

He felt a hand on his cheeks. His angel had a brilliant smile. And green eyes.

 

Green eyes that were fiery and bright, holding his gaze.

 

Green eyes that looked into his blue and into his soul.

 

Green eyes that spoke of sadness and strength.

 

Green eyes that haunted his dreams.

 

\---

 

He shot up from his troubled sleep, gasping for breath. It was dark out still; the only light came from the street lamp that glowed weakly in the chilly autumn night. The alarm clock next to his bed told him that he had only slept for a few hours. Not that it mattered now; he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep at this point. The morning damp made his left knee throb where old and new wounds intersected. He pulled his legs in and sat cross-legged on the bed, rubbing his face with his palms. His gut was screaming at him about something. He ignored it; he had neither the energy nor the focus to listen to it right now. It was probably job-induced stress wearing him down, more than anything.

 

He hadn’t had that dream in a few weeks. He thought it was going away.

 

It happened more often right after he got back from New York City. They told him it was PTSD, but Gibbs knew better. He was a Marine for fuck’s sake. He’d seen and been through it all. Getting trapped and injured under fallen debris while attempting a rescue was nothing compared to being blown up and shot and almost dying in combat.

 

He remembered the exact moment it happened. He had been in the Director’s office that fateful morning, shaking the man’s hand for accepting his new assignment. He had just finished a one-year stint as an agent afloat, and was promoted and given the MCRT lead agent position. Tom Morrow was congratulating him on his appointment with a hand on his shoulder when the man stopped mid-sentence.

 

He would never forget the look on Morrow’s face. It was a mixture of awe, horror and sorrow. He knew that he must’ve had the same look on his face after he turned and saw the Towers fall on the plasma that usually showed ZNN 24/7.

 

Morrow didn’t say a word when he asked for leave.

 

He called up his CO, found out the local contact for the Marine Reserve, and was up in New York with his bags packed less than 6 hours later.

 

As a former Marine, he’d carried out more than his share of search and rescue missions, often with fewer resources and always in more mortal danger, but this somehow affected him much, much more.

 

He’d been in New York for a few of days at that point. The hope for finding anyone still alive after 24 hours was slim to none, so their tasks had gone from search and rescue to search and recovery. His team was on its last couple hours of the shift when they found a cache of bodies. They were in the process of pulling out the first of the bodies but then the rubble above them gave away.

 

He’d heard from Rodriguez, a fellow former marine on his team, that they were lucky because there was another team that came in right behind them. The second team had heard the debris collapsing so they came looking. It took a while to dig them all out. Most of them came out with minor injuries, mostly scrapes and cuts, a few broken bones. Gibbs on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. He had pushed another rescuer out of the way of a large piece of a ceiling, but ended up getting pinned under it. It would’ve been fine if the debris that came down didn’t block him off from the others. He was bleeding out from a cut on his right leg, and he knew from the familiar pain that the ACL in his left knee was injured, again.

 

At some point, he lost consciousness and when he came to, he was in a hospital, an IV line in his hand and a brace around his left knee. His right thigh had been wrapped with gauze and dressing like an Egyptian mummy. Needless to say he didn’t get a chance to go back in. His leg wounds had required a few of weeks of down time, and NCIS was seriously short-handed now that the country faced imminent terrorist threats. So he found himself back in DC, cooped up in his house on sick leave after one whole week in New York.

 

That had been seven weeks ago.

 

Gibbs jolted when his phone went off. “Gibbs,” he answered gruffly.

 

“Heya, Gibbs,” it was Pacci. He’d been on-loan from another team until Gibbs could find some Probies he liked. “I just got a call from dispatch. We got a body of a Naval Lieutenant up in Baltimore. You wanna meet at the office first, or do you want me to pick you up?”

 

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Gibbs sighed.

 

“See you then,” Pacci hung up at that.

 

\---

 

“What’ve we got?” Gibbs asked as Pacci got in the company car bearing two large cups of coffee. Gibbs took one without asking.

 

“Good morning, Gibbs. Yes, I’m doing well. Thanks for asking,” Pacci quipped. “You’ve got to work on your manners, Gibbs, or you’ll scare away all the probies.”

 

Gibbs snarled at Pacci’s comment. “Just get on with the case, will ya?”

 

“Like I told you on the phone, Naval Lieutenant’s body was found in Baltimore. A Lieutenant Terrance Barclay. Couple of kids found him at one of the waterfront parks, preliminary report said gunshot wounds to the back. LEOs saw his uniform and called us.” Pacci wasn’t fazed in the slightest bit by Gibbs’ snapping at him.

 

“This better not turn into a pissing match with the LEOs,” Gibbs muttered under his breath.

 

“Let’s hope not,” Pacci sighed. He’d worked long enough with Gibbs to know what would happen when the LEOs got territorial with Gibbs. The former marine would always win, and that’d just piss off the LEOs more.

 

By the time they reached Baltimore, it’d gotten quite a bit colder. Even though it was only November, the forecast had called for light snow later in the week. After stopping to refill the gas and ask for directions, they pulled up at the entrance to their crime scene.

 

“Posh area,” Gibbs looked around and noted. “Our Lieutenant lived around here?”

 

“Doesn’t look like it,” Pacci looked at the file he pulled from the database before they left for Baltimore. “Says here he’s got a DC address; no temporary address in Baltimore that we know of.”

 

“Let’s go talk to the LEOs first,” Gibbs turned and began marching towards the far end of the park where he could see some movement. Pacci pulled their kits out of the car and hurried after Gibbs.

 

The crime scene was blocked off by police tape, but there weren’t as many personnel present as Gibbs thought there would be. Which would be strange, really, because usually the locals would be all over murder cases, especially high profile ones like these.

 

He stalked over to the edge of the taped off area and showed his badge.

 

“Gibbs, NCIS. Who’s the lead detective on the case?” he barked to the young uniform, who was manning the perimeter.

 

“Uh, uh, that would be Detective DiNozzo, sir.”

 

“And?” Gibbs looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to point out this ‘DiNozzo’. The kid was so green, and he was seriously trying Gibbs’ patience. “Which one is DiNozzo?”

 

“Oh! That would be him right there,” the kid pointed towards a tall, lanky man in a black leather jacket, grey turtleneck and jeans, standing next to a tarp covered lump that was likely the body.

 

Gibbs muttered something that sounded like a thank-you, and stalked over to the man, who turned around at Gibbs’ arrival. Gibbs managed a better look at the detective.

 

The man was tall, just a tinge taller than Gibbs; dark hair, athletic build but not overly muscular. And young, younger than the detectives he normally got to meet at crime scenes. He was also handsome, with a light tan, which, like his name, was a clear indication of his Italian roots. The man had a bright easy smile that strangely didn’t seem at odds with the gruesome scene before them.

 

“You must be the NCIS agents. I’m Detective Anthony DiNozzo, you can call me Tony,” the detective introduced himself, holding out his hand, which Gibbs ignored.

 

“Hi, Special Agent Chris Pacci, NCIS,” Pacci took the hint and shook hands with DiNozzo and returned the introduction. “This is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.”

 

“What can you tell us about the body?” Gibbs asked as soon as Pacci was finished with the pleasantries.

 

“Well, not much, yet. Gunshots to the back – three shots, tight grouping, close range. Our vic bled out. He still had his keys and wallet on him so that rules out robbery. To be honest, it looks like an execution to me,” DiNozzo leafed through his notebook. “The ME arrived a little while ago, so we should be able to get the body over to the morgue soon. The only problem is that we’re short-handed so the autopsy report won’t be available until late tomorrow. Budget cuts, you know?”

 

Gibbs grumbled at the delay. “I’ll make a call and get the body shipped to DC. My ME will be able to get this done faster.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute,” DiNozzo looked back up, his eyes trained on Gibbs, and moved his tall frame ever so slightly between Gibbs and the body. “This is our scene, _our_ case. We called you guys as a courtesy, knowing you would need to be informed, but that doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here and take over. This is a murder-”

 

“Of a Naval officer, which puts it squarely in our jurisdiction,” Gibbs interrupted the younger man’s claims. “Call your Captain; tell him we’re taking over the case. If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with the Secretary of the Navy.”

 

“You have no right!” DiNozzo was completely Gibbs’ face now, stepping right into Gibbs’ personal space.

 

Gibbs stared right into DiNozzo’s eyes. They were green, he noticed – and very much like the green eyes from his dreams… Gibbs mentally shook his head. Now would not be a good time to think about that.

 

“I have every right to take over this investigation. You know that,” Gibbs growled out, his eyes narrowing, creasing the skin around them.

 

DiNozzo seemed momentarily stunned, and then he huffed and turned, grabbing his cell phone out of the jacket pocket. “I’m calling Captain Nichols.”

 

“You call him; tell him that this is now officially an NCIS case. Tell him to call Director Morrow at NCIS if he has any problems,” Gibbs pulled out his cell phone as well, and dialed for Morrow’s office. As he briefed Morrow on the issue with jurisdiction, he could hear DiNozzo arguing over the phone.

 

“I know! But, Captain-” he started, but was interrupted by Nichols on the other side. “We can’t just- fine. I’ll tell him.”

 

“So?”

 

“Case is yours. I am to release the crime scene to you then go back and sit on my hands,” DiNozzo sighed in resignation, a trace of anger in his voice. “Fuck!”

 

Gibbs smirked. This DiNozzo was interesting.

 

“Alright. Pacci, start on processing the scene. Call Ducky and tell him a body’s enroute. Take the evidence back to DC when you’re done so Abby can start analyzing it, and call me,” Gibbs barked as he threw Pacci the keys to the car. “DiNozzo, you’re with me. Tell your ME to ship the body to DC after Pacci’s done here.”

 

“Me? Why?” DiNozzo pointed at himself and looked at Gibbs with reservation. “You’re taking over the case aren’t you?”

 

“I am, but we need to interview witnesses and run down the leads. You know Baltimore better than I do, don’t you?” Gibbs quirked an eyebrow, as if taunting the man. The detective sounded competent and experienced even at his young age, and he seemed genuinely interested in solving the case, which was what really impressed Gibbs. He could use an extra pair of hands, if DiNozzo could prove himself to be worthwhile. “Don’t tell me you don’t want in on the case.”

 

“I do, but the Captain told me to get back-”

 

“Rule 18, DiNozzo – it’s better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission,” Gibbs threw it out as he turned to walk back to the perimeter.

 

“Uh, okay, Agent Gibbs,” DiNozzo trotted behind Gibbs. “Huh. You’ve got a rule for this kind of situation?”

 

Gibbs just grunted. “What else can you tell me about the vic?”

 

“Well, not much yet. He’s not local, according to his driver’s license, but I guess you already know that. He’s got a set of car keys so we’ll probably have to go look for his car around here somewhere. Maybe there will be some evidence there worth looking at,” DiNozzo continued to flip through his notebook as he recited his findings. “Oh, he’s got IDs to Bethesda, and a temporary access card issued by Johns Hopkins in his wallet as well. Maybe he’s working with someone there?”

 

“Could be,” Gibbs pulled out his cell phone again and punched a number on his speed dial. “Abs, Gibbs. Yeah, Pacci’s working on it. I’ll have him bring it back to you when he’s done here. Listen, I need you to pull Lieutenant Barclay’s service records, see if you can find out what he’s working on at Bethesda, and call me back. And find out for me what he drives. Yes… No… We’ll see, alright?”

 

“Who’s that?” DiNozzo asked curiously.

 

“Abby Sciuto, our forensic scientist,” Gibbs answered as he looked around to the residential buildings near the park. “Did the uniforms canvas the local residences yet?”

 

“Yep. But as usual no one saw or heard a thing,” DiNozzo sighed. “The ME placed the time of death around 2 AM. He also said that there was enough blood on the ground so it’s definitely our primary scene. I’m thinking whoever killed Barclay used a silencer. There is no way that not a single person heard anything if a gun went off in the middle of the night in a neighbourhood like this.”

 

“It’s possible,” Gibbs nodded. “What about the kids who found the body?”

 

“Teenagers staying out late; were cutting through the park to the burger joint up the street when they stumbled across the body. Three boys; all pretty shaken up. They didn’t see anyone leave the scene. I had the uniforms bring them down to the station to take statements,” DiNozzo tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. “Not a lot to go on, I know.”

 

Gibbs thought for a moment, but before he could say anything his phone rang. “Gibbs.”

 

“Gibbs, I’ve got that info you want on the vic,” Abby’s cheerful voice came through.

 

“Hold on, Abs, I’m putting you on speaker.”

 

“Okay! Is Pacci there, too?”

 

“No, Abs,” Gibbs sounded impatient, but Abby ignored him.

 

“Oh. Whatever. Hi, whoever’s on the other side with Gibbs!” Abby greeted.

 

“Detective Anthony DiNozzo. You can call me Tony,” Tony laughed as he greeted back.

 

“Alright, Tony! Okay. So our vic Lieutenant Barclay was the Navy liaison working on a joint counter-bioterrorism task force between the DOD, CDC and NIH. They were mostly working on contingencies for bioterrorism scenarios and not actual biological research, so it’s not really top secret, but certain level of clearance is required to be read-in on the details. Barclay had a degree in molecular biology, and was working out of a research lab at Bethesda. And it says here that he was working with a Dr. Henry Wainwright over at Johns Hopkins. Dr. Wainwright is a pathologist specialized in epidemiology and infectious diseases. I’ll text you the address.”

 

“Well, that explains the temporary access card,” Tony noted. “We should go interview this Dr. Wainwright.”

 

“Did Barclay have a place here in Baltimore?” Gibbs asked after giving it some thought.

 

“Hmm… There is nothing on record here, but his credit card shows regular usage in Baltimore, usually several days consecutively, so he must be staying in town somewhere.”

 

“Okay, thanks Abby.”

 

“Oh and Gibbs? Barclay drove a late model Toyota Corolla. I’ll send all of the information to your email.”

 

“Alright. I’ll call to check in later,” Gibbs hung up and turned to Tony. “You got a car? Let’s head up to Johns Hopkins and talk to this Dr. Wainwright, see if he knows anything.”

 

“Yeah, sure. This way.”

 

The drive to Johns Hopkins was short, but they had just hit morning rush hour when they left the crime scene. Gibbs had started to growl at the stop and go traffic after ten minutes with the car barely moving three hundred feet.

 

Seeing the impatience in the NCIS Agent, Tony decided to start up the conversation. “So, it’s just you and Pacci? You guys are partners?”

 

“Nope, he’s on loan. Used to work with him. I’m heading up a new team, but this case came up before I can go through the personnel files,” Gibbs thought about ignoring the man, but decided that if he was going to work with the guy, he might as well be civil. “What about you? Where’s your partner?”

 

“Uh, yeah, he’s… He’s on sick leave,” Tony answered with a nervous smile.

 

“What’s his name?” Hearing the nervousness in Tony’s voice, Gibbs looked over to the detective. He could see a slight twitch and something that looked like a mixture of guilt and sadness in the younger man’s green eyes, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

 

“His name is Ryan McManis,” Tony sighed as he took a right turn, his face grim. “We were on this drug-related homicide a few weeks back. We were trying to rescue a hostage when he got shot by the perp.”

 

Gibbs nodded. Having your partner shot while on a case; it’s a hard thing to take. Sensing the younger man’s desire to not go into the details of his latest case, Gibbs decided to not comment.

 

“Anyways. So, Abby, huh?” Tony asked, not so subtly changing the topic, at the same time forcing his tone to remain cool and casual. “She sounds interesting.”

 

“She’s way out of your league, DiNozzo. Don’t even think about it,” Gibbs smirked at that.

 

“You don’t know that!”

 

“Oh yes, I think I do,” the smirk widened into a grin.

 

“We’ll see,” Tony quipped as they finally pulled into the parking lot next to the entrance of the Medical Sciences building at Johns Hopkins.

 

\---

 

“Dr. Wainwright?” Tony knocked on the frame of the half-open office door, poking his head in.

 

Henry Wainwright was a man of about fifty – average height, slim, short salt and pepper hair and beard, a slim face and striking features. He looked up when he heard the knocking.

 

“Yes? May I help you?” he took off his glasses and got up from his seat.

 

“Actually, yes,” Tony strolled into the small office, Gibbs following behind him. “I’m Detective Anthony DiNozzo, Baltimore PD, and this is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS.”

 

“NCIS?” Wainwright frowned as he shook Tony’s outstretched hand.

 

“Naval Criminal Investigative Service,” Gibbs opened his notebook. “You know a Naval Lieutenant by the name of Terrance Barclay?”

 

“Yes, Terry and I work together sometimes,” the doctor nodded. “What’s this about?”

 

“When was the last time you talked to Lieutenant Barclay?” Tony asked, trying to gauge Wainwright’s reactions.

 

“Yesterday. We had lunch together, and after that we sat down to look over some of the research material he brought,” Wainwright had a confused look on his face. “He’s supposed to drop by my office later today before he heads back to DC. Why are you asking me this?”

 

“Lieutenant Barclay was found dead this morning by the waterfront,” Tony said quietly, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the doctor’s face.

 

“Oh my God! Terry? How…” Wainwright looked and sounded genuinely shocked.

 

“May I ask what you two were working on?” Tony carefully approached the doctor with his question. “We know Barclay was working as the Naval Liaison with the joint counter-bioterrorism task force. Is your work related to the task force?”

 

“Yes, but not directly. I’m working with Terry in the capacity of a consultant. I know _of_ the task force, but I have no direct knowledge of the detail plans,” Wainwright frowned. “I was helping Terry collect epidemiological data on cold, flu and a few other very common, communicable diseases. He wanted to gauge the worst and best case scenarios of a viral release through one versus multiple patient-zeros.”

 

“So you know nothing about the actual contents of the contingency plan being drafted?” Gibbs looked up from his notepad.

 

“Not really. Although I could probably guess at the sub-headings,” Wainwright shrugged, “used to work with the CDC developing disease prevention strategies for third world countries.”

 

Gibbs’ phone rang, and the former marine growled with frustration before picking up the call.

 

“Gibbs,” this had better be good. “Pacci, you done? Okay. Abby’s expecting your evidence. When you get back to the Yard, find me Barclay’s CO and the head of that joint task force Barclay works for. Yeah. I’ll see if I can find a place for that.”

 

After he hung up, Gibbs turned his attention back to the doctor. “Where was Barclay staying when he’s in town? From what you’re saying, he usually stayed for days at a time.”

 

“We have visiting scholar residences here on campus. I managed to talk the admins into giving him a room there,” Wainwright jotted something down on a sheet of sticky notes. “Here. This is the address of the residence.”

 

“One more question, Dr. Wainwright,” Tony asked as the pair turned to leave. “How did Lieutenant Barclay seem yesterday? Was he in any way, shape or form particularly out of character?”

 

“Not really. But he did seem distracted,” Wainwright played with his beard thoughtfully. “That was why he was supposed to drop by later today.”

 

“Alright, thank you for your time, you’ve been a great help,” Tony took out a card from his wallet. “If you can think of anything else, please give me a call. My cell phone number is on the card, or you can call dispatch and have them transfer you.”

 

“Not a problem. I’ll keep that in mind. Terry was a good man, and a great scientist,” Wainwright said grimly. “He will be missed.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you think?” Tony asked as they walked out towards his car. “The good doctor seemed genuinely surprised at Barclay’s death. I don’t think he’s involved.”

 

“Yeah,” Gibbs grunted in reply. “Still doesn’t explain what he was doing in the park and why he got shot, though.”

 

“Maybe he was selling the intel?” Tony shrugged. Wouldn’t be the first time a loose end got tied up. “In the wrong hands the contingency plans could do a lot of damage, but also worth a very pretty penny.”

 

“It’s a possibility. We need to talk to the CO and the task force before we can know for sure,” Gibbs sighed. “Let’s go check out his residence room, shall we?”

 

“After that, you mind if we check in back at the station?” Tony asked, pulling open the car door and wincing as he continued. “Gotta go pacify the dragon before Nichols writes me up on insubordination.”

 

“You have conference hookup and internet there?”

 

“I’m sure I can find you a computer to check emails with,” Tony nodded. “As for conference calls, I’ve got something better.”

 

“Something better?” Gibbs looked doubtful.

 

“Oh ye of little faith. Just you wait and see,” Tony beamed as he started the car.

 

The drive to the residence was considerably shorter than before, since it was within the campus. The door was ajar when they got to the place. Gibbs immediately drew his side arm, and Tony followed suit.

 

The place had been ransacked; paper, broken glass and toppled chair littered the immediate vicinity to the door. Gibbs gave Tony a silent signal to go check the bedroom, as he moved towards the kitchen and living room.

 

“Clear,” Tony shouted from the other side of the apartment after a few minutes.

 

“Clear,” Gibbs yelled back. “Looks like someone was here looking for something.”

 

“Yeah, looks like,” Tony walked back to the living room, his pen out so he could poke around. “You want me to get a couple of crime scene guys down here to bag and tag?”

 

“Make the call, DiNozzo,” Gibbs started poking around as well. “That’s odd.”

 

“What’s odd?” Tony looked up from his cell phone.

 

“You’d think someone who traveled this much would have a laptop with him,” Gibbs pointed out. “I don’t see one here.”

 

“Not in the bedroom either. That _is_ weird,” Tony nodded in agreement. “Maybe whoever tossed the place took it with them?”

 

“Probably.”

 

Tony called dispatch for a couple of uniforms and a crime scene unit, and the two continued to look through the mess in the living room.

 

“Hey, Gibbs,” Tony asked after standing up and doing a 360 around the room. “Why would anyone come back and toss the room looking for sensitive information if they’re already paying or extorting the information out of Barclay? That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

Tony paused, walked over to the far wall. “If Barclay was or felt threatened, that would explain why he was distracted yesterday. And if he didn’t willingly give up the information, whoever threatened him might just be pissed off enough to kill him.”

 

“Good point,” Gibbs nodded. He hadn’t thought of that, and Tony’s ability to draw conclusions from evidence was starting to impress him. “If he felt threatened, he might not have kept the sensitive information in his laptop where it could be easily accessed or taken.”

 

“Aha!” Tony let out a cry of victory. “Found it.”

 

The detective held up a small plastic container with a handkerchief after undoing the screws on the vent.

 

“What is that?” Gibbs squinted from where he stood.

 

“This,” Tony grinned, “is a memory card. Our vic was a smart man. He probably backed everything up onto this little puppy and hid it so if the someone comes looking they wouldn’t be able to find it.”

 

“How did you know where to look?” Gibbs moved closer to have a better look at the little disk.

 

“Oh, c’mon, Gibbs,” Tony stared at the man with an incredulous look on his face. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them hide things in the air vents in a movie. It’s one of the most common hiding places!”

 

“Don’t watch movies,” Gibbs grumbled.

 

“You serious?” Tony gawked.

 

Gibbs shrugged. He’d rather work on the boat than watch the idiot box.

 

“Well, either way, we need to get this to the lab,” Tony fished out a plastic baggy to hold the card.

 

The CSU arrived moments later, and after giving instructions for the uniformed officers to secure the scene, Tony followed Gibbs back to the car.

 

“Evens,” Tony pointed to one of the CSU guys before they left, “will make sure the evidence gets sent to NCIS as soon as they’re done. Told them to have it delivered to Abby.”

 

“Good. You said you could find me a computer terminal?” Gibbs asked as they got to the car.

 

“You can probably use mine over at the station. I only need a couple of minutes to check in with the Captain.”

 

“Alright, lead the way, then.”

 

\---

 

Gibbs sat at Tony’s desk, but he was only half paying attention to his inbox. He could hear the shouting coming from behind the closed door of Captain Liam Nichols’ office. Tony’s been in there for about ten minutes, and the shouting didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. Making up his mind, he stalked over to the office and entered without knocking.

 

“WHAT!?” Nichols barked. The man was beet red, looking on the verge of a heart attack. “Haven’t you heard of knocking!? Who the hell are you anyways?”

 

“Special Agent Gibbs,” Gibbs glared at the man. “NCIS.”

 

“What the hell are you doing here? I already handed the case over to you, shouldn’t you be off investigating or something?” Nichols waved his hand as if to shoo away the unwanted visitor.

 

Gibbs intensified his glare. “You done with DiNozzo?”

 

“No, and it’s none of your business,” Nichols snarled at Tony, who sneaked a smile at Gibbs.

 

“Well, you are now. I need him back working the case,” Gibbs looked over to Tony and nodded towards the door, signaling the younger man to get moving. “Try to stop me and I’ll have you up on obstruction.”

 

Even though they both knew that Gibbs was just bluffing, Gibbs’ demeanor was threatening enough to stun Nichols momentarily, allowing Gibbs and Tony to retreat out of the office.

 

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Tony smirked while shaking his head. “Did you see Nichols’ face?”

 

Gibbs shrugged.

 

“Let’s go check in with the tech guys and see if they managed to pull anything off of that memory card,” Tony suggested. They had dropped it off with the BPD geek squad and left Abby’s contact information with them in case they need help breaking any encryption Barclay might have used.

 

“Hold up. Gimme a hand at printing this file off first,” Gibbs pointed at Tony’s computer.

 

“Uh, you just press the print button here, see?” Tony looked confused, but then he smirked as the realization donned on him. “Don’t mix well with technology, huh?”

 

Tony’s smirk widened into a grin when Gibbs shot him a nasty look. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

 

Gibbs rolled his eyes at Tony’s comment.

 

“There. Now can we go talk to the Geek Squad?” Tony handed Gibbs a stack of paper in a folder.

 

“Coffee first.”

 

“Alright.”

 

After grabbing coffee for themselves as well as the techs, they headed down to check the progress on the memory card Tony’d found.

 

“Hey, Tony,” one of the tech with funny round glasses and a Star Trek t-shirt greeted the new arrivals. “Interesting stuff here. Where the hell did you find a card with military-level encryption?”

 

“Hey Ricky,” Tony handed Ricky one of the coffees from the tray before setting the tray down. “You talked to Abby?”

 

“Oh, hell yes. Wouldn’t have been able to crack this without her help,” Ricky waved the memory card around. “Thanks for the coffee, by the way.”

 

“Thought you could use a top-up,” Tony smiled. “So, what’s the verdict?”

 

“Uhm, she’s a hot babe while being totally geeky and awesome?” Ricky beamed.

 

“On the card, you perv,” Tony rolled his eyes and punched Ricky in the arm. “Focus.”

 

“Alright, alright! Apparently this stuff is classified, so technically I’m not allowed to look at it. Abby used a secure uplink to download the data off of the card once we cracked it on our end,” Ricky grinned and took a big gulp of coffee before continuing. “She wants to video conference with you guys so she can talk about what she found.”

 

“The hookups you set up at my place from last time, they still good?” Tony asked.

 

“It should be. I just need to re-enable the port from here. You remember how to log in right?”

 

“Yeah, I think so. I’ll call you if I run into any problems,” Tony nodded. “Thanks, Ricky.”

 

“Anytime, Tony,” Ricky held up his coffee in salute.

 

“Good work, Ricky,” Gibbs, who had been unusually quiet the whole time, nodded to Ricky as they turned to leave.

 

“Later, Agent Gibbs.”

 

“So where’re we going?” Gibbs asked as they got into the elevator.

 

“My place,” Tony replied absentmindedly.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because the department’s video conference equipment is tied up at the moment and I’m the only one with a plasma TV large enough for that?” Tony grinned. “Chinese or pizza?”

 

“What?” Gibbs was completely blindsided by Tony’s comment.

 

“Food. Lunch. It’s almost noon, man’s gotta eat,” Tony shrugged. “Unlike Ricky back there, I can’t live off of caffeine alone.”

 

Gibbs snorted. “Either is fine.”

 

“Alright, pizza it is.”

 

\---

 

“You feeling ok?” Tony noted as they walked towards his apartment building from the car, an extra large pizza that would be their lunch in hand. “You’re limping.”

 

“It’s nothing. Just an old injury acting up,” Gibbs winced when he stepped a tad too heavy on his left foot. “The cold temperature isn’t helping much.”

 

“Left knee?” Tony caught Gibbs’ arm so he wouldn’t be limping all the way to the door.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What happened?” Tony asked curiously.

 

“Injured it in Kuwait.”

 

“You fought in Desert Storm?”

 

“Marine Corps.”

 

“Hoorah!” Tony quipped. “But hurt your knee again recently, didn’t you?”

 

“How did you know?” Gibbs’ looked to the younger man in surprise.

 

“Phys Ed major,” Tony grinned. “What did you do to it?”

 

“Figures,” Gibbs nodded. “I was up in New York with the Reserves helping with the search and rescue a few weeks ago, knee got pinned down by fallen debris when the ceiling collapsed.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Tony frowned. “Was one of the guys on your team named Rodriguez?”

 

“Now how the hell could you possibly know that?” Gibbs stared at Tony in mild shock.

 

“Because my team was right behind you going in,” Tony shook his head in amusement. “Interesting coincidence, huh? I thought you looked familiar when you showed up this morning.”

 

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Gibbs shook his head too, unable to believe that they had actually met before – well, Gibbs wasn’t conscious at the time, but anyway. _But then if it wasn’t a coincidence, what was it then?_ Gibbs wondered.

 

“Well, either way, I’m glad you’re recovering well,” Tony gave him a small smile, and led the way into his apartment. “I think I have a heating pad around here you can use while we eat and conference with your team.”

 

“Thanks,” Gibbs gave him a weak smile and sat down on the couch as Tony made his way towards the bedroom to find the pad.

 

Watching as Tony retreated into his bedroom, Gibbs couldn’t help being impressed by the young detective. He was glad that he had the chance to work with the man. In the span of a few hours, Tony DiNozzo had shown himself to be very capable in solving problems and cracking cases, and he had the street smarts that allowed him to think outside the proverbial box. Not to mention the man was handsome and charming, and could get anyone to open up in the matter of seconds. He wondered what it would be like to sit in observation and watch the younger man interrogate a suspect.

 

Gibbs was deep in his own thoughts when Tony came back into the living room, so he took the opportunity to quietly observe the NCIS agent from across the room.

 

It didn’t really surprise him that Gibbs was a former marine. The man certainly had the demeanor of a military man. Tony was pleasantly surprised at Gibbs’ straightforward, no-nonsense attitude. It was very refreshing after working for more than his share of bureaucratic jackasses like Liam Nichols. _I wouldn’t mind working for him given the chance_ , Tony found himself thinking.

 

Shaking his head, Tony strolled back towards Gibbs and the couch.

 

“Here,” Tony passed Gibbs the heating pad after plugging it in.

 

Gibbs’ phone rang before he could thank the man again. “Gibbs,” he answered harshly as he repositioned himself on the couch to get comfortable with the heating pad.

 

“Gibbs! You got a minute?” it was Abby. “We really need to talk.”

 

“This about the memory card DiNozzo found?” Gibbs asked, looking towards the younger man who plopped himself down on the couch next to Gibbs.

 

“Well, yes and no. I have the stuff I pulled off the memory card, which is classified, as well as the initial analysis of the evidence Pacci brought back. He’s talking to the CO and the head of the joint task force in MTAC right now. Ducky also wants to give you an update on Barclay’s autopsy,” Abby sucked in a large breath after she finished. “You totally owe me a Caf-Pow.”

 

“Breath, Abby,” Gibbs shook his head in amusement.

 

“Tell Abby that my place is set up with a secure feed for video conferencing if she needs it,” Tony commented next to Gibbs as he reached over to grab a slice of pizza. “I had Ricky set that up last time I was undercover. I thought it’d come in handy again so we never bothered getting rid of it.”

 

“You hear that, Abs?” Gibbs asked.

 

“Yep,” Abby recited off a number. “Tell Tony to call this number in a few minutes, I’ll have the call patched through MTAC on a secure line.”

 

Five minutes later, Gibbs found himself staring into Tony’s plasma screen from the couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table, looking at Abby in MTAC with a headset on. He could also see Pacci standing off to one side next to Ducky, and it looked like he was conversing with someone on his headset. _This is so weird being on the other side_ , Gibbs thought to himself.

 

“You must be Tony,” Abby did a little wave with her hand. “Very nice to finally talk face to face!”

 

“Likewise,” Tony chuckled. He could now see why Gibbs said Abby was out of his league. Not that he was actually interested, but Abby did seem like an intriguing person that he would like to know better.

 

“Hey Gibbs!” Abby signed something with her hands to Gibbs (‘Hey Silverfox, Tony’s hot!’), and Gibbs just rolled his eyes. He’d probably regret introducing these two later; they were both completely incorrigible.

 

“What do ya have for me?” Gibbs asked finally.

 

“Okay, do you want the memory card, the body, or the evidence first?”

 

“Body,” Gibbs answered after a quick thought. “Duck?”

 

“Hello, you must be Detective DiNozzo,” Ducky walked over to stand next to Abby. “I’m Dr. Donald Mallard, but everyone calls me Ducky.”

 

The ME gave a small smile and opened the folder he had in his hands. “From what I can deduce, Lieutenant Barclay died from exsanguination due to the gunshot wounds as the Baltimore ME had concluded. One of the bullets pierced his heart, causing massive blood loss; the poor fellow would’ve bled out in a matter of minutes. The gunshots were close range, but I managed to recover one round that must’ve hit a rib and gotten lodged in the chest cavity. I also noticed some powder on the sole of our Lieutenant’s shoes when I was undressing the body. I sent the trace and the bullet to Abby for analyses.”

 

“Abs?” Gibbs indicated for Abby to continue. “The evidence?”

 

“Alright, so Barclay was found in a park, correct?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, he probably didn’t drive his own car, then,” Abby cheerfully reasoned, “because he’s got some grey fibers all over the back side of his uniform and they don’t match the kind typically found in late model Corollas,” Abby nodded to the tech and a microscope image of two fibers side by side took over the plasma. “The fibers we found were trilobal, which matches the kind used for upholstery in older Crown Vics. I managed to pull traces of industrial cleaners from the fibers, and get this: the cleaners are used mostly by cab companies.”

 

“That would explain why patrol haven’t found his car yet,” Tony nodded. “I put out a BOLO before we left the station, but so far, nothing. I’ll get them to check campus parking over at Johns Hopkins.”

 

“Good idea. Also check with the cab companies and get a list of all of the fares dropped off around the crime scene last night,” Gibbs commented as Tony pulled out his cell phone to make a call.

 

“On it, Boss,” Tony replied offhandedly.

 

Gibbs couldn’t help smiling at Tony’s unintentional use of ‘boss’. He definitely wouldn’t mind being Tony’s boss – maybe he should look into poaching Tony for NCIS…

 

“What about the trace Ducky found?” Gibbs turned his attention back to the screen.

 

“This is where it gets hinky,” Abby looked down to her clipboard. “The powder on Barclay’s shoes is Ammonium Nitrate. Fertilizer. Agriculture grade, not the kind you use for lawns and gardens. And I also found some crusted black stuff on the bullet Ducky recovered. The bullet is a 9 mm hollow point; I’m running the ballistics through the database but haven’t found a match yet. I did, however, scrape the black crusting and ran it through Major MassSpec. It’s mostly carbon, but there are traces of sugar mixed in.”

 

“Fertilizer and sugar?”

 

“Yeah, and based on the crusting on the bullet, the sugar would have to be already on the bullet when it was loaded into a clip.”

 

“What about the card?” Gibbs asked. “The tech at BPD said it was encrypted.”

 

“Military level encryption, too!” Abby exclaimed. “The funny thing was that the information it contains isn’t even the top secret kind that required that kind of encryption.”

 

“What was on the disk?”

 

“Just statistics, wind patterns, infection rates, mostly work with Dr. Wainwright on cold and flu pandemics,” Abby flips through the clipboard. “Really boring and mundane stuff.”

 

“Hey Gibbs,” Pacci chimed in, “I’ve got a Commander Morris on the line. He’s Lieutenant Barclay’s CO and the head of the joint counter-bioterrorism task force. I told him that you might have some questions for him.”

 

“Patch him through,” Gibbs nodded, shifting slightly as Tony rejoined him on the couch. “Commander,” he greeted as a uniformed man appeared on the left side of the screen.

 

“Special Agent Gibbs,” Morris greeted back. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? What would you like to know?”

 

A man after his own heart, Gibbs smirked. “What can you tell me about Lieutenant Barclay’s work?”

 

“Barclay was researching the epidemiology of outbreaks. As you know, after the anthrax attacks in September, DHS has been on high alert to potential bioterrorism on US soil. My joint task force was created to determine the best strategies at preventing such an attack by looking at how one could be initiated. One of the major topics is epidemiology of the biological agent used. Lieutenant Barclay was working with Dr. Henry Wainwright on the mechanisms by which a pandemic outbreak of Influenza can occur.”

 

“Yes, we talked to Dr. Wainwright, but it doesn’t seem like he was working on anything particularly dangerous or classified,” Tony chimed in, after giving Gibbs a quick glance.

 

“No, he was not. His job was mainly data collection, analysis and modeling. This task force doesn’t actually deal with any biologics or military strategies. We’re more of a thinktank than anything.”

 

“So why was he carrying around a highly encrypted memory card that didn’t contain any classified materials?” Gibbs frowned. Abby was right, there was something hinky going on.

 

“Honestly? I don’t know. Barclay contacted me a few days ago, after he’d arrived at Baltimore, and said that someone was paying a lot of attention to his work with Wainwright. He thought the man that approached him was just a grad student at first, looking to find a supervisor. Then, he realized that the question the guy asked was a little too detailed, and not something a grad student or a competitor would ask, so I told him to probe a bit. He might be using the encrypted card as bait,” Morris sighed. “As you can imagine, a lot of people mistake us for an organization that is developing some crazy contraptions or have actual biological samples to test on, but that’s not the case here.”

 

“So you’re saying that whoever had approached Barclay may have been a hostile that is looking to obtain weapons grade biologics?” Pacci asked from the other side of the screen.

 

“I don’t have any evidence to suggest that that is the case, but it’s a possibility that I can’t ignore,” Morris said grimly.

 

“Alright. Thank you for your time, Commander,” Gibbs turned back to Pacci and Abby, “Keep me posted, Abby. Pacci, when you can, I want you back up here for backup when you’re done in DC. DiNozzo and I will check out any other leads we can find.”

 

“Aye, aye, Capt’n!” Abby made a salute before signing off the comm.

 

For a good while, the two men sat in silence, both deep in thoughts about the case while they ate their pizza. Their meditation over food was interrupted when Tony’s phone beeped twice. He pulled it out and looked at the screen.

 

“Abby said that Barclay had fertilizer on the bottom of his shoes and burnt sugar on the bullets right?” Tony asked, putting his phone away.

 

“Yeah,” Gibbs chased his pizza down with the bottle of water Tony had gotten him earlier. “Why?”

 

“I have an idea where Barclay was before he was killed,” Tony smiled smugly. “Dispatch just texted me. Uniforms found his car.”


	3. Chapter 3

A quick clean up later found the two men back in Tony’s car, driving off towards the Port of Baltimore.

 

“They found Barclay’s car over by Fort McHenry,” Tony began as they drove off from his parking lot. “That entire area is essentially warehouses and lots for storage of containers coming off of ships. Several national chains have distribution depot next to the terminals. If our suspects have some operations going on, it probably isn’t anywhere near the terminals. They’d be more likely to set up shop in the abandoned warehouses near by.”

 

“So you think Barclay followed someone to one of those warehouses?” Gibbs pointed out the logical conclusion. “What about the cab?”

 

“Well, he could’ve been either unable to make it back to his car in his attempted escape and ended up taking a cab, but none of the cab companies reported dropping off anyone near the park where we found Barclay. Or the more likely scenario is that the cabbie could’ve been one of the perps, forcing Barclay into the cab.”

 

“It’s possible.”

 

“Either way, we’ll have to get over there and check it out.”

 

“Well then, let’s go,” Gibbs conceded.

 

They got to where Barclay’s car was found just as the tow truck was about to leave, bringing the car back for the CSU to process. After getting an update from the patrolmen who found the car, Tony wondered back to his own car.

 

“So, there are three warehouses in the area that are vacant, according to the local patrol,” Tony read off of his notepad. “I suggest we go on foot.”

 

The first two warehouses on the list were completely and utterly empty. A heavy layer of dust on the various surfaces told them that the space hadn’t been occupied in a very long time.

 

When they came up to the third warehouse, they could clearly see evidence of traffic in and out of the lot. The padlock on the chain-linked fence was brand new.

 

It wasn’t exactly a warehouse either, and more like a manufacturing facility, with large, unused machines all over the place. Tony tiptoed to peer through an exterior window, but saw no movement inside.

 

“I think they’re out,” Tony whispered after he ducked his head back down. “No movement inside the building.”

“What did you see?” Gibbs whispered back in a low hiss.

 

“A table, a few chairs; there was a laptop on the table. Maps, take outs, the usual stuff if you’re holed up in a place like this,” Tony replied. “There is a skid piled with white bags in the back along with some new-looking cardboard boxes.”

 

“We need to get a closer look.”

 

“Hop the fence?” Tony smirked.

 

“Something like that,” Gibbs smirked back.

 

A few minutes later, Tony found himself on the other side of the fence, as Gibbs secure the padlock back on the fence.

 

“You’re gonna _have_ to teach me how to lock-pick,” Tony quipped. “That is _not_ standard police procedure that I’ve ever read.”

 

“Not NCIS either,” Gibbs shrugged. Technically, since they didn’t have a warrant, they shouldn’t even be there. “Stay on my six, we’ll go around and see if we can find a way in.”

 

“Six?” Tony asked in confusion.

 

“Yeah, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, then sighed. Can’t blame the kid for not knowing military lingo. “Six, as in six o’clock?”

 

“Ohh,” Tony made an exaggerated sound of understanding. “Gotcha.”

 

The two of them snuck around the building, hugging the wall and testing each of the doors until they found one that was unlocked. Stepping inside, they found themselves right next to the pallet Tony had seen earlier.

 

“Agricultural grade ammonium nitrate,” Gibbs sighed inwardly. “If that box contains what I think it does, we’re in big trouble.”

 

“Wait… you’re saying…” Tony gaped, finally making the connection. “A bomb?”

 

Gibbs carefully flipped open a flap on one of the boxes. Circuit boards, wires and tools. “Looks like.”

 

“Fuck,” Tony cursed under his breath. “That’s just _great_.”

 

“Laptop,” Gibbs pointed to the table. “See if there is anything over there that can tell us what these dirtbags are after.”

 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Tony flipped through the maps and garbage on the table. “There is _nothing_ here that indicates a religiously motivated attack. If it were, there would be paraphernalia around here.”

 

“They have hospitals, police stations and fire departments circled – the ones that handle primary emergency responses – and major routes of mass evac marked,” Gibbs pointed to one of the heavily marked maps.

 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Tony turned the laptop on. “Hey, this is Barclay’s laptop.”

 

“This has the feel of a home-grown operation to me,” Gibbs continued to flip through the garbage on the table, but before he could say more, he heard the sound of a car stopping outside the building.

 

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs hissed, pointing towards the window and made a sign telling the detective to find a place to hide before ducking his body behind a bunch of crates.

 

From his hiding place, Gibbs could see five men, dressed in flannel shirts and dirty jeans, coming in from the front door. They were each carrying a rifle or a shotgun, and they headed straight for the table.

 

Gibbs tried to move further towards the far end of the warehouse, as his hiding place was too close to where the men were moving. He didn’t see the teetering crate behind him and stumbled straight into the damn thing with a loud crash.

 

“Who’s there?” all five guns were pointed in his direction in an instant. “Show yourself.”

 

“Federal agent,” Gibbs identified himself, reaching for his weapon and badge.

 

“Hey!” one of the men yelled. “Keep your hands up where I can see them. And toss your gun over.”

 

Having five guns pointed at someone was a pretty persuasive way of disarming said someone. Gibbs tossed his side arm on the ground between him and the lead man and put his arms up by his head. One of the other men was sent over to pat down Gibbs and made sure he wasn’t carrying another weapon.

 

“Where’s your partner?” the leader asked tersely.

 

“I don’t have one,” Gibbs said calmly. Well, it was partly true – Tony wasn’t really his partner.

 

“Liar,” the leader narrowed his eyes. “Come out, _partner_! Or I shoot him right here, right now.”

 

Gibbs cursed when Tony emerged from his hiding place, hands also up by his head.

 

“Couldn’t let them kill you,” Tony shrugged.

 

“They weren’t going to, ya know,” Gibbs said exasperatedly.

 

“Shut up,” the leader demanded, forcibly dragging Tony towards Gibbs after disarming him. “Move!”

 

“Hey, watch it,” Gibbs growled, his body tensing with his arms dropping, ready to attack. But he didn’t get to lay hands on the leader, as the butt of a shotgun connected with the back of his head.

 

\---

 

Gibbs came to quickly, but years of military training had taught him to not move a single muscle so he wouldn’t give away his regaining consciousness to the enemy. The pounding in his head told him that he’d been either hit on the head or drugged. Or both, he mused. He may be older than he’d like to admit, he would like to think that it’d still be quite hard for anyone to get the jump on him like this. But then he remembered the butt of the gun that had him going down like a ton of bricks. He opened his eyes to a slit so he could take a peek at his surroundings. It had gotten darker, and colder. Hard concrete floor told him that he was on the ground, probably still in the warehouse he and Tony were checking out.

 

He could make out hushed voices talking away from them, and he counted three, no four voices. None of the perps seemed to be inside the warehouse, so he attempted at moving his arms for a bit.

 

“They’ve got us tied up, in case you’re wondering,” a quiet voice said. _Tony. Thank God he’s ok._ “We’re locked inside one of the storage rooms, and they’re all outside.”

 

“You okay?” Gibbs opened his eyes fully and found himself staring at Tony’s left thigh. His wrists were tied behind him with what felt like his own cuffs, and his legs were bound at the ankle by rope.

 

“I should be the one asking you, Gibbs,” Tony smirked, seemingly unaffected by their current circumstances. “You’re the one that got pistol-whipped. Well, in your case, shotgun-whipped.”

 

“How long was I out?” Gibbs wormed his way into a sitting position, leaning slightly towards Tony. He could feel the heat emanating from the younger man, which in this cold, was a welcoming comfort.

 

“A couple of hours, at least, by the looks of it. I’ve lost track,” Tony looked towards one of the windows. It had gotten darker since they arrived at the warehouse. “Can’t exactly check my watch right now. They took our guns and cell phones too.”

 

“What happened after I went down?” Gibbs asked, turning his head and wincing as the tender spot came in contact with the shelving unit behind him.

 

“I think you were right,” Tony started. “Looks to me like a home-grown cell, some right-wing nut jobs who think by attacking domestically and blaming Bin Laden will force the government to allot more military funding.”

 

“What about the ammonium nitrate?”

 

“Bomb, like you said. Except I think now the plan includes us,” Tony grimaced as he said. “Haven’t you wondered about why we weren’t dead yet? They’d killed Barclay easily enough.”

 

“What do you mean ‘includes us’?”

 

“Uhm, includes us, as in bombs strapped to us or near us. At least, that’s what I think I heard.”

 

“Ah, hell,” Gibbs sighed. Great, just great.

 

“Well, a bombing that takes out a cop and a federal agent would certainly attract the kind of attention they want.”

 

“Any plans on getting out of here?”

 

“Not quite yet,” Tony began to move his head and shoulder, trying to work out some kinks from being bound for so long. “Getting out of these cuffs would be a good start. I don’t suppose you have an extra key hidden, do you?”

 

“No, but I do keep a paper clip around,” Gibbs fished the small piece of metal from his back pocket and began working on his own cuffs.

 

A few minutes later, Gibbs had both of their cuffs open, and took out the knife he kept hidden in his belt to cut the ropes on their ankle. “Good thing they weren’t too thorough.” Gibbs commented wryly.

 

“Door’s locked,” Tony tried the handle. “We need to get out of here so we can call for help.”

 

“Shh… Wait, listen,” Gibbs put a finger to his lips. “I think our backup’s here.”

 

“Backup? What backup?” Tony whispered.

 

“Rule number three, never be unreachable,” Gibbs replied. “Pacci must’ve called me and couldn’t reach me.”

 

“So what? He’s expected to call the cavalry because you didn’t pick up your phone?” Tony asked skeptically.

 

“No, he would’ve checked with BPD on our location and what the hell we were up to, and after being unable to reach me several times, bully your Captain into sending at least a couple of marked cars here with him after he’d triangulated my cell phone,” Gibbs explained as noises coming from the doorway became more pronounce. “Get ready, things might get nasty fast.”

 

Tony looked around, picked up an old pipe wrench and hid himself near the door where he could ambush anyone coming into the room. And just as he stood ready to attack, the door swung open forcefully, nearly hitting him.

 

Gibbs jump straight into action, knife in one hand, the other twisting the perp’s arm behind him. “DiNozzo, cuff him.”

 

“Let’s go,” Gibbs nodded towards the door after Tony had secured the man.

 

It was a mess outside. One of the perps was lying on the ground, apparently shot. A handful of police officers were at a standoff with the remaining two terrorists, who had been hiding among the machines and had their rifles pointed outwards, taking pot shots. Gibbs could barely make out the familiar shape of Pacci among the cops.

 

There was no way for the cops to get closer without getting shot at. Gibbs glanced at Tony, who shook his head in agreement. They’d have to help taking the terrorists down.

 

Gibbs gave a hand signal to Tony, telling him to go around behind the machines. Tony nodded and made his way silently to the other side. He waited for Gibbs to give him the go ahead, and they both jumped out of their hiding places and wrestled their target to the ground.

 

“Federal Agent,” Gibbs said with triumph as he leaned his weight on his captive, pinning him to the ground.

 

“Baltimore PD,” Tony said at the same time, pinning his own perp down.

 

“Gibbs, that you?” the voice of Pacci yelling came from the outside.

 

“Yeah,” Gibbs yelled back. “We got them.”

 

“Hey, weren’t there five of them in total?” Tony asked Gibbs as the uniformed officers lead the perps to the squad cars, but before he could ask again, he felt himself pulled forward towards the door.

 

“Bomb!” Gibbs yelled as he pulled Tony into a sprint. “Move!”

 

\---

 

Gibbs was lying on his hospital bed. The unpleasant smell of antiseptics was burning a hole in his sinus cavity, and he was completely and utterly bored out of his mind. _And very much in need of coffee_ , he sighed. No caffeine until he got out – doctor’s orders. That was like a death sentence to a caffeine-addict like Gibbs.

 

 _This sucks_ , he thought to himself.

 

The leader of the terrorist cell – what was his name? Johnson? Jamison? – had decided since they weren’t going to make it out, he might as well take out as many as he could by detonating the bomb right then. It was shear luck on Gibbs’ part that he was facing in that direction. Another good thing had been that the bomb was crudely made and of low purity, therefore the blast was minimal – still took out half that warehouse though. Majority of the personnel were outside already so there wasn’t any other casualty.

 

Pacci had dropped by earlier to tell him that they’d gotten signed confessions from the rest of the terrorist cell, and had all of the evidence all bagged and tagged for processing. Between the BPD crime lab and Abby working on evidence, they should have the case straightened out in no time. One of Johnson’s men had confessed that they caught Barclay following them, and thought it would be easier to just force Barclay into giving them the information. Johnson had been pretty pissed at Barclay for lying to them so they shot him. Both the gun and the silencer used were found at the warehouse.

 

The minor concussion he received getting hit by debris while shielding Tony during the explosion had required an overnight stay at the hospital, despite his protest. Gibbs was less than thrilled that he was unable to glare the doctors into submission and sign-off on his release the night before. The only consolation was that Tony was at the hospital too, after being treated for the cuts and bruises sustained during their escape. Tony’s arm had been cut open by shrapnel and required stitching, but he was otherwise fine. The detective had snuck out after the nurses made their rounds and came to find Gibbs in his room.

 

“Hey,” Tony smiled as he entered the room. “You’re looking well.”

 

“Ugh,” Gibbs grumbled. “Not well enough to get the hell out of here, apparently. I hate hospitals.”

 

Tony chuckled. “Me too.”

 

“What about you?” Gibbs turned his head slightly to look at Tony, frowning slightly from the headache he was sporting. The younger man’s arm was in a sling to prevent him from pulling his stitches. “Ya alright?”

 

“I’m fine, thanks to you,” Tony took a seat next to Gibbs’ bed. “You shouldn’t have done that, you know?”

 

“Never leave a man behind,” Gibbs grunted, as if that justified everything he did.

 

“No such thing as an Ex-Marine, huh? Figures,” Tony smirked, patting Gibbs on the shoulder with his free hand. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

 

“I will be, as soon as they let me out of here,” the corner of Gibbs’ lips twitched. “It’s not your fault.”

 

“Easy for you to say,” Tony gave him a wry smile. “Earlier, when you asked me about my partner McManis? I didn’t tell you the truth.”

 

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

 

“We were assisting on this drug smuggling case, and there was this boy, eight years old, who saw his uncle get gunned down by a dealer,” Tony swallowed. “It was supposed to be a simple case. Find and sit on the kid; protection details until we could hand him off to the FBI and DEA. Then they could get enough info out of the kid on the dealer, and flip the dealer for the whole ring.

 

“Except it wasn’t that simple. The dealer found out about the kid, and went after him. We got there too late. The scumbag had shot the mother and the kid. He bolted as soon as he saw us.

 

“McManis and I split up so I could try and cut the guy off. And then I heard shots being fired,” Tony’s head dropped, his free hand rubbing his face. “Apparently Ryan was fast enough to catch up with the scumbag and they got into a fist fight before the scumbag pulled a gun on Ryan and shot him point blank in the back while he was down. When I got there he tried to shoot me too but I got him first.

 

“Ryan wasn’t on sick leave, per se. The bullet hit his spinal cord, so now he’s in a wheelchair for the rest of his life,” Tony looked back up at Gibbs, his eyes haunted by shadows. “And the worst part was that the FBI and the DEA blamed us for killing their perp.”

 

Gibbs’ eyes softened. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known that-”

 

“That’s what everyone said, except it felt like it was my fault,” the wry half-smile was back on Tony’s face. “Anyways, I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m just glad I didn’t lose another partner, no matter how short our partnership was. It’s been great working with you.”

 

“Likewise,” Gibbs smirked back, and a decision was silently made.

 

“I should get back, before the nurses come looking. Ratchet was looking particularly menacing tonight,” Tony got up from his seat. “You gonna be ok going back to DC tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, got some paperwork to file with BPD, then Pacci’s picking me up from there.”

 

“Good luck,” Tony said from the door, smile widening. “Thanks for everything.”

 

\---

 

Gibbs was pissed. He’d been since he stepped into Liam Nichols’ office half an hour ago. _What a jackass_. He was glad to be finally going back to DC, now that the paperwork had been taken care of.

 

But before that he had something he needed to do.

 

Gibbs headed back towards the bullpen, eyes searching but not finding the person he wanted to talk to. He was looking around to ask someone when he saw Ricky the tech coming his way, so he grabbed the tech as he passed by. “You’re… Ricky, right?”

 

“Hey! Agent Gibbs!” Ricky sounded surprised. “I heard about what happened, you alright?”

 

“Getting there,” Gibbs nodded. “Listen, have you seen DiNozzo?”

 

“Hmm… He said he was going down to the park earlier when he brought by coffee,” Ricky pushed up his glasses as he replied. “But that was a while ago.”

 

“Which way?”

 

“Down this street,” Ricky pointed to one side of the building, “and take a right, follow the small path until you hit the water.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Tony was sitting on a park bench looking out into the Inner Harbor when Gibbs found him.

 

“You know it’s a good thing I have very, _very_ good hearing,” Tony said without turning his head. “You would’ve given me a heart attack with your crazy-silent ninja skills.”

 

“Mind if I sit down?” Gibbs asked as he deposited himself right next to Tony.

 

“Do I have a choice?” Tony sighed. He’d heard.

 

“Nope,” Gibbs replied with a smirk. “I heard you quit, DiNozzo.”

 

Tony snorted, his eyes never leaving the water that was flowing in then ebbing away. “News travels fast.”

 

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow and looked towards Tony.

 

“Yeah, well, it’s better than being fired,” Tony shrugged and sighed. “It’ll happen sooner or later, the kind of vibe I’ve been getting from Nichols. Time to dust off the old resume. Or maybe I’ll go back and get a law degree or something.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Gibbs imitated Tony’s indifferent tone of voice. “Liam Nichols lacks vision and an eye for talent.”

 

Tony snorted again as he looked over to Gibbs. “That is the understatement of the century, Gibbs.”

 

“Ya did good yesterday,” Gibbs said nonchalantly as he got up from the park bench. “Could use someone like you at NCIS.”

 

Tony stared with wide eyes as the man stood up, brushing his coat and pants slightly before pulling his coat collar up to shield against the wind.

 

“You mean…” Tony swallowed, hard, and then stood up as the older man began to walk away. “Was that a job offer?”

 

“Yeah, DiNozzo,” Gibbs stopped dead in his track to stare at Tony with an incredulous look on his face. “What, are you waiting for an engraved invitation?”

 

The tension around his icy blue eyes softened as a wide smile blossomed on the younger man’s face.

 

“Ya coming or what?” Gibbs barked out in an attempt to hide his amused smirk.

 

“On your six, Boss,” Tony quickly trotted to trail behind Gibbs, slightly off to the left side. A hand connected with the back of Tony’s head as soon as they started walking again.

 

Tony was fully grinning now as he hurried along side the older man. His face lit up bright enough to melt the light dusting of snow that had started to fall, their shoes tracing parallel sets of footprints. Gibbs slowed to fall in step with the younger man and a small smile crawled up his face.

 

It’s looking to be a great beginning of something after all.


End file.
